


What he needs

by TheIceQueen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angry Dean Winchester, Awesome Dean Winchester, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Bedside Hand-Holding, Blood, Bondage, Bottom Sam, British Men of Letters Being Assholes, Broken Bones, Broken Sam Winchester, Brothers, Burns, Caretaking, Crying, Crying Dean Winchester, Crying Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Desperate Dean Winchester, Desperation, Doctors & Physicians, Dreams and Nightmares, Dry Sex, Fear, Fingerfucking, Flashbacks, Forced, Forced Eye Contact, Friendship, Gunshot Wounds, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Holding Hands, Hurt Sam Winchester, Impala, Insomnia, Lucifer Possessing Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Men Crying, Mental Breakdown, Needles, Nervous Castiel, Night Terrors, No Lube, Non-Consensual, Pain, Painful Sex, Protective Dean Winchester, Protectiveness, Psychological Torture, Rage, Rape, Restraints, Rough Sex, SPN Genre Bingo, Scared Sam Winchester, Season/Series 11 Spoilers, Season/Series 12 Spoilers, Sex on the Impala, Sobbing, Stitches, Swearing, Tied-Up Dean Winchester, Tied-Up Sam Winchester, Torture, Tortured Sam Winchester, Trauma, Unconsciousness, Violence, beginning of season 12 only, scared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-07-27 15:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16221716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIceQueen/pseuds/TheIceQueen
Summary: Lucifer has a new vessel and the idea of scaring both bothers and the angel he's possessing all at once is just to big of a chance to let go.-Read the tags. I'm not going to apologize for this.If it's not for you: Don't read it.If you're as twisted at me: Enjoy...





	1. Look at him

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is written for:  
> SPN Genre Bingo [Square filled: Free Space]  
> Sam Winchester Bingo [Square filled: Sam gets fucked against the hood of the Impala]  
> Bad Things happen Bingo [Square filled: Forced to Watch]

“Don’t you fucking touch him!” Sam could here that Dean was twisting and fighting the ropes like he’d never done before. “I’ll fucking rip your heart out through your ass!”

“Oh Dean. You talk a big game.” Lucifer didn’t even bother to look at Dean while talking to him. He was too busy making sure Sam wouldn’t be able to move when he loosened his power on him.

“You know? Getting in to this body gave me an opportunity to mentally scar both of you in a whole new way.”

Lucifer used Cas’s hands to tie the last rope on Sam’s leg. Making him lie spread out, bend over the hood of the Impala, not able to move an inch. In Cas’s shoes he walked around his work making sure it was done properly before releasing the hold his archangel power had on the younger brother. Sam fought the ropes, but nothing gave he turned his head and found Dean tied to a chair a few parking spaces from him.

“Dean!”

“It’s okay Sam. I’ll figure it out!”

“Again with that big mouth of yours.” This time Lucifer walked straight to Dean, lifted his face to make him look into Cas’s deep blue eyes. “I’m sure this will shut you up. I’d always wanted to make Sam mine. Making you watch while I soil your baby brother, your favorite angel and your precious baby, is just icing on a very delicious cake.”

Lucifer moved a hand in Sam’s direction and his jeans and boxers tore off his body, leaving him completely exposed to the huge parking basement.

“What! No!” Sam’s head got fuzzy. He was sure he was screaming and desperately pulling the ropes but most of all he was fighting the urge to throw up. He could see Dean’s eyes flaring open in disbelief from across the room.

“You’re deranged! This… this is…” Dean paused and looked at Sam. Seeing the panic in his older brother’s eyes made Sam’s heart stop. “… there’s no word for this. You’re sick!”

“Yeah well, it looks like this _sick, deranged_ angel has the upper hand.”

Lucifer left Dean like he was nothing and laid eyes on Sam. The amount of adrenaline running through Sam’s body burned his muscles and lungs, but did nothing to the ropes on his wrists and ankles.

“Don’t! No…! Don’t!” Sam was shaking his head violently against the hood, the only part of his body he was able to move.

Lucifer touched Sam’s ass and both brothers screamed words none of them understood.

“This is going to be so good.” He slapped Sam’s ass and the hunter yelped loudly on impact. “You know… This vessel is rather well equipped.”

Cas’s hand made it’s way slowly down the narrow of Sam’s back and into his open crack. Sam tensed, but with legs spread so far apart he cloud do nothing to protect himself.

“Don’t! Please…”

Tears were forming in his eyes and begging was the last resort.

“Leave him the hell alone!” Dean’s voice was high-pitched and cracking. “Even being Satan, you can’t imagine the torture I’ll lay on you!”

Lucifer looked over at Dean. “Worse than this?”

Sam screamed out as a dry finger entered him fast and with no warning. His legs were shaking, but he couldn’t use them anyway. The burning and fear let the water fall from his eyes.

“Take me.”

The voice was low. Sam almost didn’t hear it for the blood pumping passed his ears.

“Take _me_!”

This time there was no doubt.

“No…” Sam gasped as the finger turned raw against his insides. “Dean, no…” Sam had already been tortured by Lucifer. He was the punching bag... The broken one. They both needed Dean to be whole.

“No.” Lucifer pulled his finger out and left Sam panting and shaking. “This is all about Sam. Besides, I’m sure a part of you would love making sweet love to this particular body.” The trench coat landed on the concrete floor between the brothers.

The amusement in the taunting voice made chills run down Sam’s spine. Chills quickly forgotten as the finger punched its way back in and Sam cried out tears springing from his eyes. Lucifer twisted and turned inside him, making the dry rim burn hot.

Panting and gasping for air he looked at his older brother. Dean was fighting the ropes and shouting, but Sam didn’t hear anything but his heart against the cold metal and Lucifer’s loud breathing.

“D… De-Dean. Dean!”

Dean froze and looked Sam in the eyes. Sam shook his head and as a new deeper punch bored inside him, he squeezed his eyes and jaw tight, but quickly found Dean again.

“Please.”

“Stop begging! It’s unbecoming for a gentleman like you.”

The word was not for the torturer, and Sam knew that his brother had heard it. Dean bit his lower lip and nodded before he looked down. Still fighting the ropes, but soundless and not looking at his younger bother being violated by his best friend’s body.

“No no no. Dean, you are going to see this.” Lucifer took his hand off Sam’s hip and Sam saw Dean fight the movement, but nothing could be done. “I’ll make it so you can blink but your eyes won’t stay closed. You wouldn’t want to miss it if we make a dent in your car.”

The finger was gone, and Sam did his best not to clench as he knew it was going to be excruciating when it returned.

“Sammy…” Dean gasped and soon Sam knew why. The thing pressing up against his ring was not a finger.

“No. It won’t…! You can’t!”

“Oh I can. I’m strong remember?”

Sam turned his head away from Dean but forcefully it was moved back, and his eyes were open. Lucifer bottomed out at the first thrust.  The force splitting him open was worse than being stabbed, burned and shot at the once. Sam would know. While gagging and coughing up air and half cries he was forced to look at his brother. Tears were running down both their faces, and both heartbeats threatened to kill them.

The torture seemed to last for hours. The endless pounding followed by red fire burning through his spine, stomach and thighs, was relentless. No breaks. No coming up for air.

“You enjoying this as much as me Sam?”

Sam couldn’t answer if he wanted to. Dean looked like he was going to say something, but his lungs were clearly taking over his ability to control anything.

“I can make it better for you.”

A finger made it’s way in under the hard cock, ripping the dry red rim further open. Sam tried not to think about the warm trail, of what he could only imagine to be blood, running down his inner thigh. The finger pressed in deep and bored into his prostate, making every thrust burn hotter and spread to his entire body. His eyes rolled back and soon he was not able to fight anything. Electricity ripping through him, making his whole body shake. Dean vanished from his eyes and he was left only with the persistent pounding and the pain.

“D… D… Dee…”

“I’m here Sammy!”

The last thrust made Sam’s eyes spring open and the first scream in, no one knew how long, tore trough the concrete room.

“Thanks bunk-buddy.”

Wheezing for air, Sam laid limp on the car and with blurry vision, he watched Lucifer close his pants, pick up the trench coat and on his way out, place a hand on Dean’s shaking shoulder. “For your information: Cas really liked that. I mean, does it matter which Winchester he gets anyway?”

As soon as Lucifer left with Cas as his hostage, the lock on Dean’s head disappeared and the ropes on the chair loosened.

Without delay, Dean tore off his dark green jacket and rushed to his brother.

“I’m sorry Sammy.”

Sam winched as Dean laid the jacket carefully but quickly over his lower body. Sam couldn’t talk. Not that he would know what to say if he could. He couldn’t move. He just laid there watching Dean’s shaky hands untie the ropes.

“Can you walk?”

Sam shook his head. He was sure he’d plummet to the floor if he moved off the hood of the car.

“Not a problem. I’ve got you. Just hold the jacket, okay?”

Sam grabbed the sleeves of the jacket and let Dean move himself under his arm. Supporting himself some against the car and a lot on Dean, Sam made it to the rear-door. For the first time Dean hesitated. Sam steadied himself and removed his arm from Dean, leaning against the roof and still with his eyes plastered to the floor, he nodded for Dean to let him go.

Sam wasn’t able to contain the hisses and moans the pain forced out of him as he bend over to climb in. Lifting his legs was torture all over again and he fell hard on the seat as the ordeal was over. Dean must have waited till Sam was completely quiet, because he only appeared in the door when Sam had covered himself with the jacket. Dean covered him with a tarp from the trunk.

Something caught Sam’s eyes. Dean’s wrist. With a sudden movement that surprised Dean and pulled electricity through Sam, he grabbed Dean’s lower arm. Fighting the ropes had cut him open almost all the way around his wrist. There was lines and smears of blood down his hand. The wound was deep and uneven and already on it’s way to get infected.

“Not important. Let’s go to the bunker.”

Still making sure not to look Dean in the eyes, he looked at his brother’s other arm. Dean was hiding it outside the car.

“Let me see.”

If the rope had torn into him slightly different from this, his brother could be bleeding out as they spoke.

“It’s just rope burns. Let’s get you home.”

Sam tightened his grip on Dean’s arm with all the strength he had left. He needed to see. Dean sighed and presented the other arm to his brother.

“You broke your wrist?”

“I did everything I could. I’m sorry Sam.”

Sam let go of his brother and let him close the door by his feet.

The drive was less than comfortable. Every turn made Sam tense not to fall off, resulting in muscles spasming and cramping. Every bump tore into his abused hole like Lucifer was back and even the smallest shake or rattle made all the pain spike up in flares, making Sam hold back from throwing up.

In the bunker’s garage both brothers stayed in the car. Sam wasn’t sure how to move, and he didn’t want to go by trial and error. He looked at Dean’s hands squeezing his fingers blue around the steering wheel.

“This is not on you Dean.”

Like a switch was turned on Dean got out and opened the door by Sam’s head. “I’m gonna skin him you know.”

“I know.”

“I’ll torture him for this and then I’ll hold him down and watch you end him”

Dean grabbed Sam under the arms and pulled his younger brother out of the car as Sam cried out and bored his fingers into the arm holding him.

“The car…”

For some reason it was easier for Sam to address the blood when the most horrible thing in the sentence was that the Impala’s leather upholstery was covered in it.

“Sammy… My wrist will heal. The car can be cleaned. Let’s get you in bed before you pass out, okay?”

Dean didn’t let Sam answer before he wrapped the long arm around his shoulder and all but carried Sam and the tarp to Sam’s room. Sam fell to the bed with a howl which had Dean apologizing again, while he covered him with the blanket.

“Sam…? What do you need?”

Sam slowly and with much effort, turned away from Dean. He wanted nothing, but he _needed_ everything. He needed someone to fix this. To heal him. To make him forget. But Cas was gone. He didn’t want to see Cas ever again although he knew this wasn’t him. He never wanted to see Dean ever again, but this wasn’t his doing either. He needed to turn time back… he had no idea how long. Long enough that he’d never met Lucifer.

“Sammy…”

Dean spoke quietly now, and by the sound of it, he’d hunched down by the bed. “Tell me what you want me to do. Do you need a doctor? I’ll get one…” Dean paused for Sam to answer, but Sam had nothing to say. He hoped with all of his heart that he didn’t need at doctor.

“…Do you need me to call someone. Would it be better if Jody was here?”

“No!” Sam turned his head and looked Dean in the eyes for the first time since they were forced to do so. “I don’t want anyone else here.”

“Okay… okay. It didn’t look too bad with the amount of blood, but if you’re still bleeding tomorrow, I’ll get a doctor here.”

Sam didn’t want to make that deal but he knew it was the only way to go. Dean stood up and gestured for Sam’s shoes. Sam nodded, and Dean untied them and removed them carefully without lifting Sam’s legs or making him turn to his back.

“I won’t leave the bunker. If you need anything; call me... You hear?”

Sam grabbed Dean’s arm and held tight. “Let me fix your wrists.”

“No Sam. You sleep. I can do it on my own.”

Sam didn’t want Dean in the room, he didn’t want Dean to look at him. But he needed him to be there. To be close. He didn’t want to touch anyone, but he needed Dean to be real.

“I’ll get the bandages and the disinfectants. Hold tight.”


	2. Seperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love all the feedback I got on this work, and the suggestions to make this into a chaptered work made me so happy. I had taken longer than I'd hoped for to get this chapter out, but life happened. ;-)
> 
> Dean is trying to help while dealing with the fact that he might not be able to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written as the ANGST square on my Sam Winchester Bingo card. (my works tend to often get angsty so I wanted to connect that square to an already existing story line)

Sam disinfecting and bandaging Dean’s wounds hurt like a son of a bitch, but watching his little brother on his side, half sitting against the headboard and fighting his own pain, hurt Dean even more. Dean had no idea what to say. Sam never looked up and only spoke when Dean hissed or swore. The silence was getting too much to handle and the older brother was close to expressing pain again, just to hear the younger say “Sorry” one more time.

When Sam was done taping up the broken wrist, it was still too swollen to splint, and it would probably be painful on top of the wounds anyway, he placed everything on the night stand and all but collapsed into the pillows. Dean stood up to help him get situated, but Sam pulled away from him.

“Thank you for this.” Dean held up his neatly wrapped wrists. “You should sleep some now. Can you move down on your own?”

The fight in Dean’s mind and body, whether he should help or not, was heavily leaning towards moving Sam himself, but even as Sam’s moans and hisses got louder and angrier, he stood back watching. Slowly, Sam got to lie down with only his head on the pillow.

“Sam?” Dean knew by now that Sam wouldn’t look at him, but he had to believe that he would answer in some way. He didn’t.

“Sammy?”

Dean hunched down in front of the face, that more than anything looked broken.

“Do you need something for the pain?” When he didn’t answer, Dean tried taking his hand but Sam flinched and withdrew, making Dean stand up and take a step back.

“Okay, but I’m not gonna leave you. I’ll stay right here if you need anything.” Dean gestured to the floor. There was something about the way Sam had asked to patch him up, that made Dean think. The way Sam had held Dean’s hand in his while using the other to disinfect the wounds was too careful and too firm at the same time. Dean was sure Sam had needed to do that. He was almost certain that Sam needed someone to stay close, and there was no one else in the bunker but him.

* * *

The night was too long, too dark and way too quiet. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Sam’s pained eyes looking at him; burning holes in Dean’s brain with disbelief, fear and shame. The only thing breaking up the images in Dean’s head was the sound of his brother’s breathing going a little too fast and the occasional sharp gulp of air, that convinced him that Sam wasn’t sleeping either. He could only imagine what was going though his little bother’s head.

When he checked his watch, for the hundred and twenty-fifth time, it was six a.m. and he decided that enough was enough. Silently, he kicked the blanket to the corner and stretched his sore body. A night on the floor after the fight he’d put up the day before, had done him no good. He regretted, not leaving to get a softer cover to lie on, or a sleeping bag.

He turned the table light on the dresser on and when he looked at Sam, every trace of regret vanished. Sam hadn’t moved an inch, even his hands were holding each other in front of his chest, just as they did when Dean turned the light off. His eyes were still open and he didn’t seem to have noticed the light.

“Sammy?”

Dean was whispering and walked over slowly, afraid that he would scare him, to hunch down in front of him. It didn’t look like he was fully there.

“Sam? Hey, are you with me?”

Dean didn’t dare to touch him. What if he closed off for good?

“Please. Work with me here….” He was fully aware of how desperate he sounded, but he couldn’t give two fucks about that now. “Just tell me you can hear me.”

A slow breath made its way through Sam’s nose and filled his lungs while he nodded ever so slowly. Dean almost fell to the floor from the sudden release of tension.

“Good. Sammy. That’s good… Now listen…” This was new ground and Dean had to step lightly. “I need to make sure you don’t have a fever. Can I touch you?”

It took forever for Sam to respond, but when he did, it was with another small nod. It was almost as good to Dean as if he’d looked at him. Almost. He slowly placed the back of his hand on his little brother’s forehead and was reassured that he wasn’t warm.

“You don’t seem to have a fever. But Sam…” There was no getting around this. He wished that he didn’t, but he had to ask. “Sam… Have the bleeding stopped?”

Dean didn’t get an answer and he hated that he had to get one. He sat all the way down on his knees to get to eye-level with Sam. Not that it did anything to get him to look at up. Desperate for some kind of connection, Dean placed his hand on top of Sam’s, and to his surprise, Sam moved to wrap both his hands around Dean’s.

“Sam, I need to know. You know that.”

Sam’s breathing got strained and Dean was sure that if he pushed further, he would start crying. It didn’t matter; he’d gotten his answer.

“Okay. I get it.” He placed his free hand on Sam’s shaking shoulder, to try and still the large body. “I’m sorry. But we need help.”

As Dean stood up to leave, his hand was still locked in Sam’s. There were no words. Even when Dean tried to ask what he needed. Sam only looked at the bandages and the splint they hadn’t used, on the table. Dean didn’t get it. It wasn’t necessary to change the bandages on his wrists yet, and getting Sam help was more important even if they should be changed. The firm grip on his hand and his brother’s eyes didn’t move, and eventually he sat down.

“Okay. Thank you. But I’ll have to go after.”

Watching Sam try to sit up a little was excruciating. The moves was even more strained than last night and Sam held his breath with every move. He handed him another pillow and finally Sam got situated. Not close to sitting up, but elevated enough to see what he was doing and able to use both hands.

The touch of Sam’s hands while he worked was light and slower than usual, maybe even slower than it had to be with his injuries. Dean had never given physical contact between them a thought, but now, when they didn’t talk and Sam didn’t look at him, the contact he got from feeling his forehead wasn’t enough. The feeling of Sam’s touch was precious to Dean. He let Sam work in silence, take his time and hoped with all of his heart that Sam had asked to do this because he needed Dean to be with him. If he knew it or not.

Even prepared, Dean withdrew his hand as Sam tightened the splint around the newly bandaged wounds. Reacting quick Sam grabbed Dean’s lower arm above the splint and held it tight, looking Dean in the eyes. He nodded that he was okay and Sam broke off in the same second and took Dean’s hand instead.

It was difficult for Sam to get back to lying down, while holding Dean’s hand still not accepting any help. When he was down, panting and again shaking Dean squeezed his hand and waited for him to relax a little.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything for the pain?”

Sam turned his head further into the pillow and worked hard to slow his breathing.

* * *

Leaving a teary-eyed Sam behind was the hardest thing Dean had ever done. Especially, because the grip on his hand had intensified as he’d stood up. When pulling his hand from Sam’s, he might as well have tried to unwrap his brother’s fingers from around his heart.

With no idea who else to turn to, he called Jody, well knowing that it would be a problem hiding everything from her, but he had to try and he had to get help. Clearly worried and confused, she said that she would ask around and five minutes later she’d called back with a location.

Dean turned around five or six times on the way to the car. Maybe he could just call the doctor with the location of the bunker. It wouldn’t be safe to let anyone know, though. He knew he had to pick her up, but he felt physically ill thinking about leaving Sam alone. He had no idea what was going on in his head, but he was sure it was nowhere near good.

The punch in his stomach, when he saw the state of Baby’s backseat, all but knocked him over. He leaned against the roof and gagged. There wasn’t a lot of blood, but the way it had gotten there was too much to recall. With shaking hands he placed a tarp over the seat and got behind the wheel.

The one hour drive to where Jody had told him to meet the doctor, was done with his phone in his hand and his heart in his throat. He was there early, but thankfully the doctor was too. Dean let out a small sigh of relief and mentally thanking Jody for probably giving them two different times.

Not getting out of the car he opened the passenger door in front of the woman and she got in without words, and Dean helped her get quite a few bags over to the back seat, making sure he didn’t push the tarp away.

For a second Dean hesitated, she didn’t know him and had just gotten into the car like it was a normal Tuesday. Dean didn’t even know if it _was_ a Tuesday.

“So, you are Dean?”

Dean looked at the brunette; she was around his age, maybe a little older. There wasn’t any sign on her face or voice that she was nervous.

“Yes, I’m Dean.”

“Okay, I’m Janie. An old acquaintance of mine, called me and said that a friend of his… Jody, had contacted him. He couldn’t tell me much.”

Dean nodded and looked out the window. “Yeah, he wouldn’t have known.”

She nodded and looked down at the fabric in Dean’s hand. “You’re going to blindfold me, aren’t you?”

Dean wasn’t prepared for the question, but happy that she brought it up, so he wouldn’t have to. He nodded and she took it from him. She tied it over her eyes and nodded. “Okay, let’s drive. I got the impression that this was an urgent matter.”

Wheels squealing, Dean sped out the parking lot. Five minutes in to the drive and the awkward silence, the doctor started the conversation.

“Dean. I need to know what I’m facing here. I guess it’s not about your wrists.”

The demand for information was something he knew was coming but nothing he was prepared for. He swallowed a few times but didn’t seem to get any words out, not that he knew which words to begin with.

“Okay.” The woman must have realized that Dean needed a push. “I know that you are hunters. I know that you live a place no one can know where are. And I know that Jody was desperate, when calling the guy I helped out four years ago.”

Even the thought of how much he must have scared Jody and how worried and confused she must still be, didn’t take away from the memory of how broken Sam’s face had looked when he left him alone.

“We don’t use doctors that often. My brother and I usually take care of injuries ourselves. Other times we can scam us through a hospital stay… this is different.”

“So it’s your brother?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. He’s hurt… ehm…”

The doctor turned her head towards him and would have looked straight in his eyes had she not been blindfolded.

“Hurt? I’m gonna need a bit more than that, or maybe he’ll prefer to tell me himself.”

“I don’t think so…” Dean squeezed harder on the wheel, trying to prevent his hands from shaking, but it only resulted in pain shooting up his arm, making the car sway on the road. “…I’m not sure he _can_ tell you.”

He could feel the woman’s eyes boring through the blindfold and into his skin. Dean swallowed. Even thinking the word was too much, but he was sure Sam would never be able to tell her.

“He was… he…” Dean swallowed to get the nausea away and almost managed to get it down. “He was… raped.”

Baby’s engine had always calmed Dean, it had always been safe, but with it being the only sound, it was only taunt from happy memories that didn’t have any meaning in this moment.

“I see.” The doctor had lowered her voice and seemed to be choosing her words more carefully. “Can you explain his injuries to me? All that you know?”

Dean nodded, not realizing that she wouldn’t be able to see it. “Yeah… ehm. I don’t really know that much. I mean… He’s in pain and he was bleeding… is... This morning he seemed as if it hadn’t stopped.”

Dean could hear the shaking of his voice and the woman must have herd it too, because a hand found its way over the seat-back and lightly touched his shoulder before she took it back.

“When was it?”

“Last night.”

“Is there any other injuries?”

“I don’t think so…” Dean thought the night before over, but most of the time he was locked down only able to see Sam’s eyes. He would never forget the look in his brother’s eyes that night. “…I’m not sure. He didn’t move all night.”

“And he doesn’t talk?”

The extra deep breath filling Dean’s lungs didn’t help. It only burned more. The worst part of it all was that Sam didn’t talk.

“Not since last night. He listens and understands, most of the time he kinda… well, reacts, but not with words.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Does he know that I’m coming?”

Dean tried his best to explain that Sam most likely knew but that the doctor thing was only mentioned right after they got back to the bunker. Then he tried to explain the whole bunker-situation without making it sound like they were hiding from more than other hunters. Which wasn’t true, but the worst thing that could happen now, what that he accidentally scared this woman away.

* * *

“Sam…?”

Dean pushed the half open door up and walked slowly inside, hoping that his brother was finally sleeping. He wasn’t. He was still in the same position and as soon as his eyes landed on the woman standing behind Dean, they flared open, he tensed up and his breathing got fast and unregular.

“Hey. Hey. Take it easy.” Dean ran to Sam’s side and didn’t think before grabbing his shoulder and burying his other hand in his hair.

“Sammy. Look at me.”

Sam’s eyes were still locked on the doctor but he bored his fingers into Dean’s hand on his shoulder. Dean place himself in Sam’s line of sight.

“Sammy! Stop! Look at me!”

Losing the sight of the woman in the doorway, Sam looked Dean in the eyes; still gasping for air and eyes wide open.

“That’s it. Now breathe.”

Sam’s gasps got longer and while Dean’s fingers was moving slowly in his hair the gasps slowly got more controlled and could almost be considered real breaths.

“Okay…” Dean looked apprehensive at Sam. “You back?”

Sam loosened his grip on Dean’s hand and Dean took charge and grabbed Sam’s to hold it firmly between them.

“Listen. You need help.” Sam gasped and Dean squeezed his hand. Surprised that it worked in calming his brother, he continued. “You need help I can’t give you. Janie is a doctor. She knows hunting.”

Moving a little out of the way, Dean made sure that Sam could see the doctor waiting in the door.

“You know you need this, right?”

Tears fell form Sam’s eyes before Dean had seen them building up. He wanted nothing more than to tell the doctor to leave and just stay right there, with the most contact he’d had with Sam all day. But he knew that it wouldn’t last. Sam would close up again and more when he would start to get sick, and Dean would have to take him to a hospital. He couldn’t do that to Sam.

“Sam?”

With quiet tears rolling over his face and quickly wetting the mattress, Sam let go of Dean and nodded. Dean stood up and gestured for the woman to bring her bags in and come over to the bed.

She sat down on the chair next to Sam and introduced herself, not getting a reaction. She sent Dean a smile that told him to leave.

With everything in his body telling him to walk the other way, Dean made it to the door. He stepped out in the hallway before he heard a whisper. Turning around, he saw the woman leaning down, listening closely to something Sam was saying.

She sat up and nodded at Sam, before she looked at Dean.

“Can you stay right outside?”

If he hadn’t grabbed the doorframe in time, Dean would have dropped to the floor, relieved that he wouldn’t have to leave Sam behind again.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sure. Sam, I’ll be here the whole time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me if you liked it and if you are looking forward to a third chapter.
> 
> Tumblr: its-me-theicequeen


	3. Mind vs. body

The door closing made Sam jump and the hand taking his lightly, was not reassuring at all.

“Dean told me you haven’t taken anything for the pain.”

Sam didn’t react. It wasn’t a question anyway, so there was no need to try and explain.

“Sam, I can see you’re hurting. You haven’t moved for half a day. You need morphine.”

He pulled his hands back from her touch. Morphine would make him drowsy. He was already too tired and he would surely end up sleeping. He didn’t want to sleep. He couldn’t. He needed to be awake and in as much control he could muster up, which wasn’t a lot to begin with.

“Can you tell me why?”

Still looking down, Sam could tell she moved a little closer. He just wanted her as far away from him as possible, but he was sure he’d pass out from pain and exhaustion if he tried to fight his way out of this.

“I don’t…” He paused his whisper to swallow to prevent himself from crying again. “I can’t sleep.”

“You don’t want to sleep?”

Sam shook his head.

“Okay…” She opened a small bag and put on some gloves. “I see you’re tired and it probably wouldn’t take much to make you doze off.”

She took his hand but Sam still held it close to his chest. She didn’t fight him. “I’ll only give you enough to make your muscles relax. As far as I understand, you will be in too much pain for me to do anything if you can’t relax.”

It took a moment for Sam to think his options through, he didn’t have much to chose from. Slowly, he pushed his arm away and offered his had to the doctor. Without saying a thing she cleaned the back of his hand and slowly inserted the needle. She secured it with tape and covered his hand in a white net, holding the tube in place.

Sam followed her every move closely but let her work without protest. That was until he saw the syringe with the drug. He pulled his arm, but holding his hand she stopped him.

“Not too much. I promise.”

Sam listened for deceive in her voice but didn’t find any. It was hard to be sure though, but he couldn’t get himself to look at her face.

“I’ll give you a little now and then again in an hour. There’s hardly anything in here, but if it feels wrong, I’ll stop everything and get your brother in here till it’s out of your system.”

She held the syringe in his line of sight. Sam knew that there wasn’t enough in there to make him sleep, he’d been around morphine enough times to know that. He nodded and relaxed his arm so she could attach the syringe to the tube and inject the drug.

Almost immediately, Sam felt the piercing spike of white-glowing pain disappear and the deeper, sore pain in his muscles and deep tissue were manageable enough for him to relax his legs and back. He breathed a little easier too.

The woman placed his hand next to the other on the mattress. “I have to look Sam. But first, are you hurt anywhere else?”

Sam curled closer in on himself and shook his head. He was only in pain one place. His rope burns weren’t nearly as bad as Dean’s and they had both pretended that they wasn’t there at all.

Instinctively, he pulled the blanket closer to his chin as the woman walked behind him. He heard her pull over a chair and sit down.

“I’ll tell you everything before I do it. Right now I’m only lifting the blanket to see. I won’t touch you yet.”

The beating in Sam’s chest was violent enough that he could hear it himself, as the cold air in the room met the skin on his rear. The room was quiet. Sam realized that the blood running down his legs last night would still be there. By the amount of blood he had left in the Impala, he could only imagine the sight the doctor was taking in.

The blanket covered him again and she came around to hunch down in front of him.

“You have been bleeding a fair amount. Not enough for it to be dangerous in itself, but you probably knew that.”

Sam’s eyes were on his hands wrapped in the blanket, pulled to his chest. He nodded slowly.

“You’re still bleeding some. I have to take a closer look and see what is going on. Do you think you can move to lie on your stomach?”

Sam had given up, trying to get out of this. He might as well do what she said. He had no control of anything anyway. Close his head off and let everyone else do what they needed to do with his body. That was the easiest. It was too hard to fight anymore.

As he began to move, the doctor gestured for him to move back a little so she could place a couple of big pillows in the middle of the bed.

“See if you can get your hips to lie on these.”

Sam’s mind switched between praising the morphine for taking the worst pain away and despising it for making it possible for him to follow the doctor’s demands. Frantically, he made sure the blanket followed and covered him completely before letting his upper body and head collapse to the mattress. He appreciated how careful the doctor was not to move the blanket, as she helped him move his legs a little apart.

Sam’s arms reacted up and his hands involuntarily grabbed the corners of the mattress. The cold metal under him spread goose bumps all over his body. From the tight ropes around his wrists, over his tense back, over his most agonizing part, and down his legs to the robes burning around his ankles. The pain spiked as he was pressed down on the hood and his sight turned black.

“De… D…” He wasn’t sure he was making any sound.

He could hear someone talking. It wasn’t Dean.

“De… DEAN!”

Two strong hands pushed him to his side. The ropes broke and he rolled off the car and landed, breathless and shaking on the mattress.

“Sam! C’mon.”

Sam grabbed the wrists of the two hands holding his upper arm and his cheek. “D-De…?”

“It’s me. Open your eyes now. It’s over.”

Sam squeezed more on the arms, one of which were shaking, as he opened his eyes slowly. He didn’t look up at first but Dean moved his hand from Sam’s cheek to this chin and lifted his head.

“Flashback?”

Sam nodded and looked away. His eyes landed on Dean’s other wrist. Sam was still holding tight on it. On top of the splint. Quickly, he let go and pulled his arm to his chest.

“I’m good Sammy. Nothing to worry about. Now, do you want me to stay?”

It was hard to do, but Sam eventually managed to let go of Dean’s other wrist and shake his head no. He didn’t want Dean in here when the doctor worked. It would be wrong in every way he could think of. But he still hated to let him go.

“Okay.” Dean brushed his hand through Sam’s wet hair. “I’ll be right outside the door.”

* * *

The doctor had given Sam a few more minutes to calm down after Dean had left. At first, she had been by his side, not saying much, just giving him time. Then she’d walked to the dresser and started finding stuff from one of her bags. She seemed sorry that something she did had prompted that response, but somehow, she seemed sure that it wouldn’t happen again. Sam wasn’t sure if she was stupid or faking it. He settled on the last one, the last thing he needed now, was to convince himself that the doctor, he was in the mercy of, was incompetent.

“How is your pain?”

Why was everything build on words? He hated words. He wasn’t sure if he would start crying or screaming if he tried to speak, he wasn’t sure he _could_ talk half the time.

She came over slowly and hunched down next to him. “Is it getting worse again?”

Sam shook his head, pleased with finally being asked a yes-or-no question.

“Tell me if it does, okay?” She waited for Sam to nod, before she took a few of the things from the dresser and placed them on a sheath she’d spread over the mattress behind Sam’s back.

Sam heard her put on gloves and there was no way he could stop his eyes from making a steady flow of tears wetting the sheath under him.

“Can you pull up your knees just a little more?”

Sam took a deep breath and pulled his legs up. When he resembled someone sitting down, the doctor stopped him.

“Good. It’s enough. Just lift the top leg a bit further, if you can.”

It tore in his backside as he tried to oblige her request, but with her hand guiding him he got his knee further up and rested it on the mattress above the other.

She must have seen his tears or heard his strained breathing by now, but she didn’t address it. Sam was content that she didn’t. She couldn’t comfort him anyway, no one could really but she was here to do a job and that act was not compatible with making him at ease.

He felt the mattress tilt as she sat down behind his legs. She removed the blanket, but didn’t touch him further. “Sam… You have a tear. It’s not as bad as I expected, but it does need stitches and I have to look inside to make sure how long it is.”

The tears breaking from Sam’s eyes were building in a pace making him blind. He knew that eventually she would have to touch him, but this was too much to handle.

“This is how we’re going to do this.” The sound of her unwrapping something from plastic sent shivers down his back. There was no way he could do this. Maybe sleeping through it was not such a bad idea. “I’ll inject local anesthesia into your sphincter. After that I can open up to place the stitches and check for other injuries.”

Maybe it was a delayed reaction to the morphine or maybe it was the doctor’s words that made Sam feel lightheaded and dizzy.

“Sam? Are you with me?”

A hand landing lightly on his hip sent a shiver through his body and he drew in a sharp breath. The hand was gone immediately. Why Sam cleared his throat before nodding he wasn’t sure, but the doctor didn’t address that either.

“Okay. Lets get this out of the way then. I’ll clean you a little first. It’s only water.”

Sam jumped by the first touch of cold against his abused skin, but the doctor just waited for him to steady himself and then continued. The light touch of the soft material, generated enough burning pain that Sam’s legs were shaking. He’d been in pain for over half a day and he knew it was bad, but this was too much. He must be torn to pieces down there.

“Doing great Sam. Now, it’s okay for you to move a little if you have to while I administer the injections, but do it slowly. Just remember that the pain will be gone soon.”

“Wait…” Sam’s whisper was just loud enough that the doctor froze.

“It’s okay. Take a deep breath and tell me when you’re ready.”

“No…” Sam’s breathing was getting dangerously fast. “I… no…” He swallowed a couple of times while trying to find the right words.

“I need the pain.”

The doctor must have been equally as surprised as Sam by the words. Sam was frozen in place, tears had stopped rolling, and he was desperately trying to make sense of his new fear. He’d wished for nothing more than for the pain to stop since Lucifer turned his finger the first time, but now he couldn’t let it go.

“Sam…? Sam, can you hear me?”

The woman was speaking louder than before and Sam realized that she must have tried talking to him for a while.

“Yeah…”

“Okay, listen to me now.” He felt her firm hand on his lower leg. “I don’t know what is going on in your head right now. I just know that you need my help, and I know that no one can do this when being in so much pain. I’m sorry Sam, but there is no way around this.”

It wasn’t possible to calm his breathing. He was getting dizzy again. He knew that the pain had to be there. But he also knew she was right; he’d probably end up hurting both of them if she were to put something inside him without painkillers. Not to talk about the stitches.

“Sam…?” The grip on his leg tightened a little.

The breath leaving his mouth never ended up as a word, but the small nod going along with it reached the woman just fine.

Before he knew it, a hand was on his butt-cheek.

“Breathe slowly.”

The sharp pain entering him burned hot. When the movement stopped and the burning increased, Sam tensed every muscle in his body except the one in question. He grabbed the edge of the mattress and watched his knuckles turn white. Silently, he begged for it to be over, but still somehow, he knew that the real pain would come when this one wasn’t there anymore. Ever since Lucifer touched him the first time, all the bad; his slow recovery and his misery had been about the pain. The physical pain. Now she was taking that from him. Sam wasn’t sure what he would be left with of broken things and different kinds of pain, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“We’re almost done. You’re doing great, Sam. Just one more.”

A needle entered him again and his hand on the mattress, and the other boring holes in the pillow, started shaking. Holding his breath and squeezing his eyes closed, he got through it without moving.

“That’s it. No more injections. Breathe, Sam.”

Sam took a deep breath but did not open his eyes. He was not going to be a part of what would happen next.

* * *

After a few minutes the doctor was convinced that the painkillers were doing their job. Sam had been convinced for a while but hadn’t seen the need to tell her. She sat down behind him and the recognizable sound of hands struggling to enter gloves was back.

“I wont do anything before telling you, and you can say stop at any time. Do you understand?”

He did. He just didn’t want to be there, he didn’t want to hear what she was going to do, but most of all he didn’t want anyone touching him. Still, he was not afraid to admit to himself that he was scared enough to be grateful that she would warn him before doing anything.

Sam heard a cling or a rattle from metal. “I’ll inset the speculum now. Just try to relax the best you can.”

The rounded metal pushed slowly and problem free inside. Deeper than Sam had expected. Relaxing wasn’t in the cards. Sam’s neck and back tensed involuntarily and soon his arms were shaking as much as his thighs.

“Sam. Does it hurt?”

Sam grabbed the pillow under his head with both hands and while shaking his head he buried it deeper into the white fabric.

“Tell me if it does or you need time.”

The thing inside him expanded. There was no pain, nothing to make him scream. Only the feeling of being stretched. Being filled. Filled by Lucifer. There was only two possible reactions to that feeling, and Sam was done crying. Wrapping his arm around his head, he suppressed a gag, and then another.

“Sam. Breathe.”

Sam hid his face in the pillow and swallowed what little that came op with the third gag.

“Hey. Sam!” The woman gripped his shoulder tight. “Hey! Sam you need to breathe. C’mon.”

The first try was a complete failure. He ended up coughing a few times and gagging again. His stomach was dead set on ejecting what little there could be in there. The second breath was a bit more successful and the third could almost be considered deep.

“That’s it; Deep breaths.”

Sam slowly got his stomach under some kind of control and the doctor let go of his shoulder and put on new gloves.

“The worst part is over. I promise.”

She took a moment to look at his injuries and Sam waited for what seemed as forever.

“There is no injuries beside the tear. You won’t feel the stitches and the tear isn’t that long. It won’t take long.”

There was no pain, he could barely feel her touching him, and the little he did feel was covered by the sharp pain of his teeth cutting into his lower lip. When she took out the metal thing and he finally were able to let his body relax, his mouth was filled with the metallic taste of blood.

Before he knew what was going on, she was in front of him and had taken his hand. “It’s been almost two hours. You need this before the local anesthetics wear off.”

Only after Sam had caught up and nodded, she pressed the morphine into the tube on the back of his hand.

“Sam?” She kept his hand in both of hers. “Sam. This is your choice entirely… you can take a bath tomorrow, not before, but I can clean your legs if you want the blood gone.”

Sam kept forgetting about the blood when he was not moving, but it was starting to itch and he was beginning to have trouble lying still because of it. He had a hard time accepting that she wasn’t done touching him though.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.” She let go of his hand, but Sam held on to hers. He still didn’t look at her. He’d been with her for hours and he had no idea how she looked like. He remembered her hair being dark when he whispered in her ear to ask Dean to stay outside. Dean was still outside… The knowledge had made it all slightly less horrible, at least safer, but Dean had been out there for a long time, with his own mind, only imagining what Sam was going through. Sam’s stomach turned and he struggled not to gag at the thought.

“Sam?”

Sam let go. He needed Dean in here now. The blood could wait. The doctor seemed to understand as she silently got up and opened the door to the hallway.


	4. Home

Dean didn’t know how long he’d been walking back and forth outside the door. He couldn’t relax, his body wouldn’t let him. What if he had to run back in there? He’d heard the doctor’s muffled voice though the closed door, and each time he’d prayed that Sam wouldn’t scream or shout. Still, every time she was answered with silence, his heart beat a little faster.

When the door opened his pulse was so high, he could hardly breathe. He almost knocked over the woman as he blasted through the door, but froze when he saw Sam. Pale, still in the same position, blank eyes staring at nothing and his chest moving too fast.

He tried carefully to get a response. “Sammy?”

Sam wasn’t moving, so he turned to the doctor.

“How… is he?”

The doctor let go of what she was placing in her bag and closed it.

“Physically, he’ll be okay, in time. The rest will take longer.”

“What do you mean, longer?” Dean was drawn to his brother’s side, but had no idea how he’d react or if it could even make things worse.

“I don’t know. I’m not a psychiatrist. He’s experienced a trauma and I’m not sure he’s able to deal with it. He’s somewhat responsive, which is a good thing, but you might need to get him some other help.”

That wasn’t happening. Sam had always been the one open for these kinds of things, but even though Dean had never seen Sam like this, he knew his brother well enough that he wasn’t able to do that. Not now anyway. Besides, what was he supposed to tell a shrink?

Dean stood back, watching the woman walk to his brother’s side and hunch down.

“Sam? Are you listening?”

Sam nodded, but Dean only noticed his eyes still not looking up and his hands white-knuckling the blanket.

“You can move as much you feel comfortable with but no heavy lifting. You have to wait till tomorrow to take a bath…”

“Ehm…” Dean broke in. “…we don’t have a bathtub. I can get one. I’ll get one if he needs it. Maybe not by morning, but I…”

“It’s quite alright.” The doctor smiled as she broke off Dean’s ramble. “He can shower.” She turned back to Sam. “Only for fifteen minutes, don’t use anything but water and don’t rub to get dry. You can go to the bathroom like normally. I’ll give you some tablets that will make it easier.”

Dean wanted to make the doctor stop, just so his brother would stop biting his lower lip. Blood was starting to run from the corner of his mouth and it didn’t seem like he was noticing it. Thankfully, she was done. All the things holding Dean back before had vanished. As soon as the doctor had moved away, Dean dropped to his knees and laid a hand firmly on Sam’s.

“Okay, Sammy. That’s enough for today, you just rest.”

“I’ll write down everything you need to know… but not here. I’ll give you two some time.”

She put a hand on Dean’s shoulder before she left, and Dean nodded without taking his eyes of Sam.

Dean took some paper from the night stand and carefully wiped the blood from his little brother’s chin. “Don’t do that. Nothing is hurting you right now.”

Sam took a deep breath and when exhaling, his teeth let go of the lip, making another drop of blood color a red line on his chin. Dean got that one too.

“I’ll stay right here if that’s what you need.”

Sam was still, not even one of the ten fingers under Dean’s hand moved a little. As if he was trying to swallow his fear of Sam disappearing, Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn’t going to move an inch before Sam told him to, and when he brushed his free hand through Sam’s locks and buried it deep in his messy hair and Sam closed his eyes, Dean knew that he didn’t need to.

* * *

The next morning, Dean had found the doctor sleeping in a room a few doors down. Sam hadn’t spoken but had giving the impression that it was okay for Dean to drive her back. Dean felt terrible leaving Sam, but he had to get her home. The fact that Sam had held on tighter, to the hand he’d been holding all night, when he’d told him, made Dean consider giving her the keys to any of the cars in the garage and a map. After Dean had made sure that his number was already on-screen on Sam’s phone right next to him, he flew down the aisle towards the garage, barely letting the woman getting into the car before speeding out of there.

After a, way too long, drive he arrived at the bunker with the tablets the doctor had promised. Sam wasn’t in his room when he walked in. Instantly, panic ran through his body but then he noticed that quite a few drawers was open in the dresser. Showering. Of cause. The next thought was that Sam should have his phone with him, just in case. But the phone was already gone.

Dean took a moment to calm himself before walking to the showers, making sure one of them was in fact turned on. When he was satisfied that Sam was moving in there, he rushed back to Sam’s room. He changed the linen and got rid of the blood-stained fabric.

There was no words said between them the rest of the day. Dean handed Sam the two pills and some water before Sam closed his eyes, and Dean himself made a bed of blankets on the floor. Sam hadn’t slept yet and Dean was adamant on staying up till Sam felt safe enough to sleep, but Dean hadn’t slept the last two nights either and it was getting harder to stay awake. He’d gotten some painkillers from the doctor and judging from the look the doctor had given him, when she told him that he should stick to the recommended dose, it had to be some heavy-duty drugs. But Sam didn’t want drugs. Sam didn’t want to sleep. However, he didn’t seem to be in that much pain anymore, so Dean let it go.

* * *

“Don’t! NO!”

Dean was on his feet before completely awake and stumbled towards Sam’s bed.

“Please… Stop!”

Almost knocking over the night stand in the process, Dean got the light turned on. Sam was on his stomach, spread out like a starfish, fighting some invisible restraints.

“Sam!” Dean pushed his little brother to his side and held his face firmly with both hands. “Sammy! It’s over. Wake up!”

Sam stopped fighting but was not awake and was clearly still suffering. He grabbed Dean’s wrists and calmed his voice to a quiet plea.

“Please… don’t…”

Dean got closer to his face and talked firm but calmer. “Sam. It’s only a dream. Wake up.”

Sam’s breathing was still too fast when he opened his eyes and looked at his older brother. The eye-contact lasted only till Sam had seemingly caught op with the situation. Then he let go of Dean’s arms and turned around.

The hesitation in Sam’s movement and the small strained breaks in an otherwise desperate breathing, prompted Dean to believe that Sam was in pain again. Maybe from tossing around in the bed or maybe the pain was what had started the nightmare.

“Sam. You need something for the pain.”

Dean brushed a hand over the back of Sam’s damp t-shirt, but his brother didn’t react. He had to take his pain away, even if it was only the physical one. Besides, they both knew from personal experience that not sleeping made the nightmares ten times worse. Sam needed rest whether he wanted it or not. Dean took the bag he’d gotten from the doctor and walked to face Sam.

“I’m not going to discuss this. You need sleep.”

Sam looked at Dean’s face for a second, and Dean tried his best to not change his mind, when a single tear broke from the younger man’s eye.

He took Sam’s hand with the tube still neatly secured and attached the syringe with the clear fluid.

“Dean… please…”

Even when whispering, Sam’s voice sounded broken.

“I’m not knocking you out. I’m only taking the pain away, so you will be able to relax.”

Sam shook his head. They both knew that he was tired enough that he wouldn’t be able to stay awake without the pain there to keep him occupied.

“I’ll stay right here. I’ll wake you up at the first sign of a dream.”

Dean didn’t let the conversation go any longer, and pressed the drug into Sam’s system. Within a minute, Sam’s body relaxed, but his breathing was getting more and more frantic as his eyes had trouble staying open.

“Sammy.” Dean held Sam’s hand tight in his. “I’m not letting go. Just sleep.”

Sam tried holding on tighter to Dean’s hand, but eventually his breathing slowed down and his hands turned limp in Dean’s.

* * *

The following five days were all the same. Dean would spend the night on Sam’s floor, waking him up once or twice a night. Otherwise using the time to look for signs of Amara or Lucifer. In the mornings, Dean made sure Sam took his pills and Sam swallowed them quickly so he could take the daily shower. It seemed like the only thing Sam was interested in. Dean would use the fifteen, sometimes twenty minutes if it had been a rough night, to clean Baby. He was done after two days, but kept going, because what the hell was, he supposed to do if he didn’t have that. At least, he was making progress with her.

At night Sam would get more quiet than otherwise. He looked like a man on the way to the gallows. He was sleeping more, but that also meant that he could keep himself awake longer and longer for each night. Dean hated lying there, waiting. Sam didn’t need the painkillers anymore. It came to a point where they would both lie awake for hours, and finally Dean would sit up and take Sam’s hand. Sam fought him the first time, but as Dean didn’t let go, he slept soon after.

On the seventh day, Sam had to see the doctor again, to remove the stitches. Sam hadn’t said anything all morning. Dean had let him take a half an hour shower. He was convinced that Sam just stood there anyway and didn’t clean too much. His brother might be broken in ways Dean never thought he would have to witness, but he wasn’t stupid.

Dean had told Sam that they had to drive to her, that she couldn’t come to them. It wasn’t true, but there was no way that Dean was leaving Sam alone for that long again, and it might be good for Sam to get out of the bunker. He hadn’t seen the sky for a week.

Sam followed Dean like a shadow of himself into the doctor’s office. The had come on a Saturday, Dean had begged for her to wait another day, so there wasn’t anyone around.

* * *

“Hi, Sam. So good to see you up and about.”

The voice resonated in his head. He hadn’t given it any thought before now, but of course the woman would sound like she did that day. He stared at his feet and fidgeted his shaking hands in front of him.

“Any problems I should know about?”

There hadn’t been anything. He didn’t think Dean wouldn’t tell her about the too long showers. He’d only been standing under the hot water anyway. It wasn’t like he’d been scrubbing anything.

“Nothing.” Dean placed a reassuring hand on Sam’s shoulder. “As far as I know everything is coming along as it should.”

“Good.” The doctor took a step back and opened a door and Sam’s breathing stopped. “There’s no need to prolong this further. It’ll be over quick. Follow me please.”

Dean’s hand pushed him gently forward. “Go, Sammy…”

Sam looked at his brother and got and encouraging nod and a small smile to go with it. He took a deep breath and followed the doctor into the room and let her close the door behind them.

“Can you manage to stand on all four on this, or do you need to lie down?”

Sam was about to _fall_ down and leaned on the desk closest to him.

“Hey there. Breathe.”

The woman held him by his biceps and moved him slowly back to lean against the door. “Gather yourself for a moment. It’s alright to be faint.”

Sam slowly got his eyesight back and his head stopped spinning. He stood clear of the door and nodded at her to let him go.

“Come over here.” She gestured for some sort of exam table with stirrups and held Sam’s arm as they moved across the room.

“Let’s get this over with, huh? Take your pants off and lay on your back. I’ll have a look and then explain how we’re gonna do this.”

In a haze of tunnel-vision, no sounds and loss of free will, he got undressed and placed himself on the table. The woman helped him lift his legs up and move down a little before she put on gloves.

“I’m just touching you. Nothing is going inside yet.”

She was going to look inside, again. Of course she was, what was he expecting? He has internal stitches. Sam’s hands were tickling, he was slowly losing control over his body.

“It looks good, Sam. No irritation or infection. It has healed up nicely.” She pulled over a little table with a tray on it. Sam couldn’t see it clearly, not that he wanted to. “I’ll take out the two outer stitches first. You know how this goes. It’s not different from any other stitches.”

Sam would beg to differ. There was nothing similar about this at all. The first touch was of cold metal. Then something pulled. He knew that the next would be the clipping sound and then the pulling though.

“Wait…” The raw whisper that delivered the first word he’d said since yesterday evening, was pitiful even in these circumstances.

“Take a deep breath. I’ll be over soon.”

Sam took the deepest breath he could manage, which wasn’t impressive, and he heard the small clip and then the pinch followed. He covered his eyes with one arm as he gasped loudly.

“Doing great. One more.”

The next was a bit further out and didn’t hurt as much. She was quick about it too.

“Good. Now I need to open up just a little to get the two inside too.” Sam heard metal clinging. The nausea from a week ago overwhelmed him in a split second. He suppressed a gag.

“Breathe. It’s not as big as last time and I wont go in far either. Just long enough that I can get the thread out.”

Sam’s head was floating and he tried desperately to breathe calmly not to pass out. He took his arm from his eyes. He needed to see, he needed to find something steady. Everything was moving and both hands grabbed the sides of the padded table to keep him from falling off.

“It’ll be cold. It shouldn’t hurt, if it does you tell me at once, okay?”

Sam locked his jaw and nodded as much as he could without adding to the dizziness. His couldn’t help his breathing from speeding out of control, as the metal entered him, but he was content that he was breathing at all. The thing expanded. Not as much as he’d feared, but definitely enough that it was more than uncomfortable.

“That’s it no more. I’ll take out the stitches now. Some people think these hurt more and some can’t feel them at all. Just hold still.”

The cold metal hit again. Barely inside, but clearly more sensitive than the others. The pulling wasn’t okay at all and Sam involuntarily stopped breathing. When the clip sounded Sam jumped and then the stinging from the thread moving in his skin started. The pain wasn’t bad but he couldn’t help his arms, back and legs from tensing up, and slowly but surely the world got swallowed in dark gray clouds. As the pain stopped his body let go of all control and his mind and body went limp.

* * *

The doctor had , almost successfully, put Sam’s jeans back on before calling Dean inside. She’d told Dean that Sam was okay. Still, she’d advised against it, but Dean had carried Sam to the car and driven off. His little brother was going to wake up at home. There was no need to make him stay.

Sam was starting to hum in the backseat. He switched position and sighed deeply. Dean pulled the car over. If Sam was going to have a nightmare, they should not be driving.

“Sammy?” Dean looked over his shoulder.

Sam twisted and hummed deeply. He looked uncomfortable.

“Sammy. Are you awake?”

Sam took a long deep breath and slowly his eyes opened.

“What…? Where…?”

“You passed out. Everything is fine but I thought you would rather wake up at ho…” Dean stopped himself.

“What Dean?” Sam sat up rubbed his eyes and combed a hand through his messy hair.

Dean didn’t know how to continue. They didn’t talk about these things often, truthfully, he could only remember one time, but it had always been implied. He looked at his drowsy and confused little brother, waiting for him to continue.

“Is Baby still home? I… I didn’t think… We can take another car when we go together. I can stop calling her Ba…”

“I don’t resent the car, Dean. I don’t… I don’t blame Cas either.”

Dean stopped his babbling. Sam looked like it physically hurt him to say the angel’s name. But Dean relished in the fact that Sam had just spoken the longest sentence since before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be the end. (I think. I have a terrible record of not keeping that promise)  
> It will tie back to where they are in the canon timeline. Somewhat connecting it and showing a time-span for Sam's healing.


	5. Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tying back to canon. Spoilers for end of season 12 and the two first episode of season 13.
> 
> Life goes on whether Sam is ready or not.  
> Oh yeah and Cas is back!

The next few days, Sam had spent a bit more time outside his room, and even joined on the search for Amara. Dean wasn’t surprised that Sam wanted to go when they found a lead, but he was hesitant. What if they came close enough? What if Lucifer had been there?

The following weeks had been weird. Dean was expecting Sam to crumble or lash out at any second, but he didn’t. He did his job. More quiet than usual, but Dean would have been more worried if he’d suddenly just snapped back to being chatty Sam who wanted to talk every plan and decision to death.

Sam had even held it together when they saved Lucifer and brought him back to the bunker. Dean had convinced himself that Sam was okay, since he was professional about the whole thing, but in the back of Dean’s mind he knew that something was still wrong. When they were in the room with Lucifer, Sam would every once in a while, Sam suddenly get quiet and a few times Dean had noticed his hands shaking. He’d excuse himself and thirty minutes to an hour later he would reappear with damp hair and smelling of that soap that he’d bought four bottles of in two weeks.

Now, God and his sister had left and Dean had no idea where he was. But standing in that park, the first thought in Dean’s mind was to get home to Sam before he did something stupid and permanent. But then their mom stood right in front of him.

* * *

Cas had almost gotten in the backseat out of old habit and Sam hadn’t said anything the whole drive home. He was driving on autopilot. The world was moving past him too fast to recognize. He was left behind with the task of finding Lucifer. His only companion; the angel which Lucifer had used to hurt him, and Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at.

He’d worked so hard for so long. Working towards a goal, and right now he wasn’t sure why it had been so important to save the world. Dean wasn’t there anymore and Sam couldn’t even shed a single tear. There was no more left. He was empty.

The British woman waiting for them in the bunker, could have shot him in the head and gotten it over with, but he wasn’t that lucky.

* * *

His foot, which still felt like it was burning hot under the dirty bandage, had been nothing compared to the mind control, lady Bevell had used, but the worst was the waiting. Waiting for that door to open and her smug face appearing at the top of the stairs.

Sam’s stomach turned as the rattle from the loose handle was followed with the familiar squeak from the door opening. He mastered up the energy to lift his head towards his sadistic capture.

“Screw yourself.”

 That’s when she pulled Dean into sight and moved him down the stairs.

“Dean.”

This wasn’t a hallucination. The sounds, the temperature and the pain. Everything was different from that. This was real.

Even with the promise that Dean would be tortured, things was better. They were there, both of them. They would get out. They always did. The biggest change was that now Sam had a reason to get out.

Eventually, that optimism faded. Even with Dean’s snappy comebacks, Sam was just too drained of everything to think of anything that would give them the upper hand.

“Did you know it’s possible to die from pain?” Lady Bevell, took no time to recognize that Sam was fighting with everything he got left to get loose. Losing Dean all over again… He needed to be first.

The door sprung open and another dead family member appeared.

“Get away from my boys.”

This time Sam questioned his previous theory about being awake. This couldn’t be true.

“Mom?”

Everything was a blur of people moving too fast in a haze of slow-motion. His mom on the floor, back from the dead and already dying. Him being tied to a chair, not able to do anything, not that he neither could or knew what to do if he was free.

He felt the adrenaline build in his body. He didn’t think there would be anything left in him from the last months. How Cas and that other Brit got there, he didn’t know. The hate towards the strangers and the confusing feelings when ever Cas was there, was the only thing that kept him standing.

When the Brits left, his head spun around and he lead on the back of the chair that had been his prison for how long he didn’t know. Dean grabbed his arm and pulled it over his shoulders. The small shake from Dean’s body, when Cas healed him, resonated in Sam. Cas reached for Sam’s forehead but impulse had Sam retract closer to Dean.

“Sam. Let me help.”

Sam shook his head and felt tears pressing at his eyes. The adrenaline was leaving. He had no strength and if Cas were to touch him now, he’d surely break down. Dean took Sam’s chin in a firm hold and lifted his face to look at him. Sam swallowed and prayed that Dean wouldn’t try to convince him. He wasn’t able to form a single word to speak against it. Dean held tighter around his waist and nodded.

“Just zap us home.” He took Cas’s shoulder.

Mary and Cas looked at each other for a second. There was no room for explaining any of this to their mother, at seemed like she understood that there was more going on between her son and this angel than she knew.

“I’ll take the car.”

She brushed her hand over Dean’s forearm as she left the room.

* * *

The landing in the library sent a burning wave of pain from Sam’s foot through the rest of his body and ended up in a loud growl. Dean barely prevented Sam from falling over.

“C’mon. Let’s get you lying down.”

The long walk to Sam’s room became an obstacle course of pained steps and teary eyes. As soon as they walked trough the door, the last piece of control left Sam’s body and mind and his legs disappeared. Dean had no choice but to follow his brother to the floor.

Sam cried. His body was numb, only held up by his big brother’s arms. Between loud sobs he heard Dean kicking the door closed.

“It’s okay Sammy. I’ve got you.”

Saving the world had taken presence. Even carrying Lucifer out of that warehouse had been too important to use time to worry about his own feelings. The time spent with Lucifer, still in Cas’s vessel, in the bunker, in their home, was necessary. He’d burred it. Pushed it away, and when it had surfaced it had brought chills and physical pain with it. He’d showered maybe three times a day, using the time to tell himself that it was for the grater good. It was not the time to break down. He’d been professional and now there was no reason. His mask had crumpled.

He couldn’t help it. His mind had let go even if he wanted it or not. He didn’t know if he did. He just knew that he couldn’t stop crying loudly and that he had no control over the amount of tears wetting his brother’s shirt.

“You’re safe, little-brother. I’m right here.”

Sam gathered just enough strength to grab Dean’s upper arm with both hands. Dean pulled him closer to his chest and rested his chin on the top of Sam’s head.

“Take your time, Sammy. Take all the time you need.”

Sam’s sobs didn’t still. He’d given up trying. He had to just stay in the moment and wait till his body or mind was done, which ever came first. Dean holding him, was the only thing important now. Not having to think about facing Lucifer, or Cas for that matter, on his own. He was done with pretending and he was over the numbness of being left alone. He had something to live for. That’s what hurt.

His lungs, his heart and his stomach. It all hurt. Enough that he couldn’t feel his physical injuries. He only felt internal pain and Dean’s arms around him.

* * *

Sam didn’t know how long they’d been on the floor before Dean spoke, and he didn’t care. His legs had been cut off from blood flow for quite some time and the rest of his body was heavy as if he was sleeping. He wasn’t sleeping. He was just still. Quiet. Relaxed, for the first time in months.

“Sammy. Let’s get you to the bed.”

Sam nodded and his arm was once again wrapped around his older brother’s shoulders.

When Dean eased Sam to the bed and lifted his legs up, there was no real pain, and Sam had to take his word for it when Dean told him that he needed to clean his wounds.

Dean started on the small gashes on Sam’s face, slowly cleaning and taping them closed with white strips. He cut Sam’s shirt and Sam gasped at the first hint of real pain.

“Sorry.” Dean removed the fabric from Sam’s shoulder and started cleaning. “Sammy, this doesn’t look good. You're gonna need stitches”

Sam knew. His legs was worse, his foot was starting to burn again. He grinded his teeth and couldn’t prevent his legs form shaking anymore. Dean noticed and stopped.

“Hold on. Let me see this.” Dean cut the left pant-leg fast and the bloody bandage. “Shit…”

Dean stood back for a second and looked over Sam. His eyes stopped on his foot.

“What happened here?”

Sam couldn’t answer. He was too tired. Too calmed by the realization that he didn’t had to pretend anymore, to worry about physical pain. It hurt like hell, but it wasn’t important enough to get out of his state of relief.

Dean cut the dirty bandage which hadn’t even covered the whole wound, and Sam arched his back in shock from the electrocuting torture ripping off his foot.

“Sam. This is really bad. It’s already infected.” Dean leaned over Sam and took his hand. There was no doubt in Dean’s eyes that this was not something they could fix. “Listen your toes are turning purple… They will end up black.”

Sam took a few seconds, looking in his brother’s eyes. Then he took Dean’s wrist with his free hand.

“Cas…” After crying so long his raw voice would only let out a whisper.

Dean lifted Sam’s hand and held it with both of his. “You sure?”

Sam nodded. He was sure. Oddly enough he was okay with it now. Cas wasn’t the one who hurt him and now he knew that what he’d seen in the angel’s eyes, after Lucifer left, wasn’t pity or awkwardness, but pure sadness for what had happened.

Dean squeezed Sam’s hand and must have prayed for him, for the same moment the angel was there, looking like an excuse for himself.

“It’s okay Cas. I just needed…” Sam didn’t know. Time? He’d had time. To break down uncontrollably? Maybe...

“He just needed to get things in order.” Dean walked over and pushed Cas forward.

“You want me to help?”

A single tear left from the flood earlier ran from Sam’s eye. “Yes. But I need to ask you something.”

Sam watched the confusing spreading worry over Cas’s face, so he didn’t delay further.

“Are _you_ okay? He hurt you too.”

Cas bit his lower lip and nodded quietly. Then stepped closer. “I’m okay, Sam. But… I’ve been scared that you never wanted to see me again. I let him out. He used _me_ to…” He stopped himself and looked at his feet.

Sam hissed with from aching when he reached over and took Cas’s hand. “It’s not your fault. Besides, we’re family. I won’t cut you out. I just needed to…” He looked at Dean who, if he didn’t knew better, looked like he was holding back tears. “…get things in order.”

Sam let go of Cas’s hand and nodded for him to go on. Cas touched Sam’s forehead and the pain was gone. Dean was back. Cas and he would be okay, eventually and his body didn’t distract him anymore. And then there was his mom in the kitchen, however that had happened.

Tears pressed on again and he curled up on himself. Dean was there in an instant, holding both hands. Cas stepped back, and as a reflex, Sam tore loose one hand and grabbed the angel’s coat. Cas nodded and walked around the bed to sit behind Sam.

With his brother holding his hands and his best friend rubbing his shoulder, Sam silently cried himself to sleep. For the first time in months, he spend the whole night sleeping a dreamless sleep, and when he woke up Dean and Cas were still in the room with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of a story that I thought would be a one-shot for a prompt-challenge. I was encouraged to continue and it got even darker. You guys are equally to blame (or to take credit) for that.  
> Tell me if you made it to the end and if you want more dark stuff like this.
> 
> Tumblr: its-me-theicequeen

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr: @its-me-theicequeen


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